


Treasure Hunt

by Papa_Lazarou



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Happy Ending, M/M, but - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13593483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papa_Lazarou/pseuds/Papa_Lazarou
Summary: Greg wakes to an empty bed and presumes the worst. Fortunately for all involved it is not the worst, but actually the best day of Greg’s life, with lots of memories being created and remembered.





	Treasure Hunt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [egmon73](https://archiveofourown.org/users/egmon73/gifts).



> For the one who believes in me, and doing the “bare minimum”. Thank you Egmon73.

**_Buzz-buzz! Buzz-buzz!_ **

Greg groggily opened his eyes only to immediately close them again. The harsh bright light that filtered through the curtains made Greg roll onto his side and gripe for his phone, to switch it off.

He slowly worked out what was wrong. He sat bolt upright and opened his eyes, wincing only slightly at the sunlight. Mycroft was in danger. He wasn’t in bed, the curtains were partially drawn open, his pocketwatch was missing, though the rest of his clothes were still neatly folded on his dresser, and more importantly, Greg’s phone alarm woke him up. Greg had two things to remember when he moved in to live with Mycroft. His pocketwatch had a built in GPS chip, and so it was never to be touched; and Greg’s phone would only ever be used as an alarm if something disastrous happened to Mycroft during the night, such as a kidnapping.

Greg got up and quickly threw on his clothes from the previous day. As he picked up his phone and keys, a small white envelope fell on the floor. Greg furrowed his brow and opened it quickly.

_**I am safe.** _

_**First sexual intercourse.** _

Greg sighed and sat back on the bed. Mycroft was safe. He read the letter again and realised what Mycroft was suggesting. To go where they first had sex. Greg smiled as the memory resurfaced, but suppressed for need of getting to Mycroft.

Half jogging down stairs, Greg grabbed an apple, before slipping on his shoes and heading out of their door. He chewed his apple as he headed for the nearest tube station. As he got on the Circle Line at Kensington, he sat down and suddenly thought through what was happening.

_Why is Mycroft sending me there of all places? I don’t even know who owns it anymore. I’m not going to be able to get in the flat, I’m sure Mycroft knows that. Why would he want me in the flat anyway? What has he got planned there? Unless it’s another letter. But why the letters? Why the goose chase? Mycroft’s never done anything like this before, it would be a waste of resources and favours._

Fifty minutes later and Greg got off the DLR train and headed to his old home. He had finished his apple at Westminster, and was already feeling peckish. It was something to do with the dry, windy air of the underground that Greg had hated since being a child.

  
Greg got to his old flat and looked around silently, there was no note, but this was exactly where they had their first intercourse. But it wasn’t. A small voice said. It wasn’t out here. It was in your bed. Greg felt for his badge nervously. He had it and he needed to gain entrance. He steeled himself with a deep breath and knocked on the door twice. He heard some shuffling and a muffled female voice shout “Get back, Neil.”  
  
Not a moment later a woman opened the door. If Greg was Mycroft, he would be able to tell all sorts, instead he could see that she was in her early twenties, had blonde hair and… a grey fur ball that streaked between his legs, she had a cat.  
  
“Good morning, Miss. I was wondering if I could talk to you?” Greg asked, as he showed the woman his badge.  
  
“Good morning, sir. Please come in, is this anything serious?” She asked, as she stepped aside for him.  
  
“No, not at all.” Greg lead the way into the living room. “There was a disturbance last night, and I was just checking to see if you knew anything about it.”  
  
_Good Greg be vague, don’t arise suspicion._  
  
“No sir, everything was quite last night.”  
  
“Please call me Greg.”  
  
It felt wrong to be called whilst not on duty, and not investigating any actual crime.

  
“I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, Greg, though the couple next door made a racket last night. Something about cold dinner.” She explained.  
  
“Well, thank you. Do you mind telling me where you were last night between 2am and 3am please?”  
  
“Yes, I was in bed reading, it’s my day off today and I like to read well into the night, it’s so peaceful.”  
  
Greg nodded once, Good there was no actual crime going off that he would be roped into.

  
“Do you mind if I use your loo? It’s been a long morning already.”  
  
“Certainly not Greg, its down the corridor, the second door on the left.”  
  
Greg knew exactly where the toilet was and where the master bedroom was most likely situated. Greg went down the corridor and instead of going into the second door on the left, he went into the first door on the left. He entered the master bedroom.  
  
The first place we had sexual intercourse.   
  
_Greg was pulling Mycroft by the handing to the room, he was only wearing his pants, and Mycroft had his jacket and tie off. Greg whirled around and pushed Mycroft back against the wall, with his lips, his hands roaming Mycroft’s body, it was smooth in all the right places and curves out nicely. He groaned against Mycroft’s mouth, which Mycroft took as an initiation. Suddenly, Greg had his back against the wall, and his ear was being nibbled._

 _  
“Mycroft…” Greg’s voiced hitched, as his pants started to chaff.  
  
“My dear Gregory,” Mycroft said, flicking his earlobe with his tongue.  
  
Greg finally found his senses again and pushed Mycroft’s hips back, and walked with him, until Mycroft was ungainly spread on his bed. Mycroft reached for his top button with hands were batted aside by Greg.  
  
“Let me.” Greg breathed, as he reached up and carefully undid the buttons of Mycroft’s shirt, each time he did so, he softly placed a kiss on the newly unveiled kiss. When he got to the bottom, Greg pushed the shirt open, and looked back up Mycroft’s body.  
  
“Further?” He asked raising an eyebrow.  
  
Mycroft couldn’t talk, instead he nodded affirmatively. Greg smiled and fumbled at the button and zip. He quickly pulled Mycroft trousers and pants down until he was staring at Mycroft’s hardened cock.  
  
“Myc…” he breathed, forgetting himself.  
  
“Please, keep kissing.” Mycroft said, trying to keep his voice level and failing.  
  
Greg could only smile as he did as he was instructed. He kissed down to the tip of Mycroft’s foreskin, eliciting a long, low moan from Mycroft. Just as he was about to take Mycroft in his mouth, Greg felt a hand clench in his hair and pull back softly.  
  
Greg looked up at Mycroft, “If you want to stop just say so.”  
  
“No… I want you- in me.” Mycroft said nervously.  
  
“You want me to, put me into you?” Greg reached up into the bedside and pulled out some lube and a condom, “If you want me to.”  
  
“Yes.” Mycroft breathed.  
  
Greg nodded, slipping the condom on and pouring some lube on his fingers, “Okay you need to relax for me Mycroft.”  
  
“I know how to take Gregory.”  
  
Greg nodded once, blushing as he slipped his first finger into Mycroft’s hole.  
  
“Relax Mycroft.” Greg said as he felt the hole tightening around his finger. He leaned up and kissed the hollow of Mycroft’s collarbone. “There we are,” Greg moved his finger around, both slowly pushing in his middle finger. “I’ve got you, you’re okay.” Greg muttered as Mycroft bucked and moaned.  
  
“Fuck Greg.”  
  
Greg smiled and slowly scissored his fingers, as he thrusted them softly in Mycroft.  
  
“Tell me what you want Mycroft. More fingers? Stay like this?” Greg asked softly, still nibbling at Mycroft’s collarbone.  
  
“I want you, not your fingers.” Mycroft managed to say between moans.  
  
Greg smiled and slowly stopped the movement, before pushing in a third finger. Mycroft arched his back and pushed his head into the pillow. Greg held onto Mycroft’s hip with his free hand, helping to ground Mycroft. “Don’t release just yet Myc, I’m not in you yet.” Greg whispered.  
  
Mycroft nodded and lowered his hips. Greg smiled and pushed his fingers around Mycroft’s hole, expanding it. As he finished, he pulled his fingers out. He held Mycroft’s hips as he lined himself up, and resting his own hard cock against Mycroft’s hole.  
  
“Remember relax and shout if you need to.” Greg said as he pushed himself into Mycroft’s stretched hole.  
  
Mycroft moaned loudly, and threw his head back in pleasure, “Fuck Greg, I… you’re…”  
  
“Shh Myc, let me do the talking. You just moan.” Greg said softly, as he gently pushed himself in.  
  
Greg watched Mycroft carefully, as he pushed himself all the way in and waited for Mycroft to relax again. As Mycroft looked down at Greg, Greg started to slowly thrust into Mycroft. With each thrust in, Mycroft moaned louder.  
  
“Mycroft, you’re going to come soon if you’re not careful.” Greg commented.  
  
“Go faster.” Mycroft managed to moan.  
  
Greg compiled and settled into a faster pace. Soon enough, Mycroft shivered under Greg and released himself over the both of them. As the warm fluid hit Greg’s navel, Greg came inside Mycroft with a loud, “fuck.”  
  
Greg collapsed onto Mycroft’s stomach panting heavily, but not pulling himself out. He felt a hand softly stroke his grey hair which was now plastered to his forehead and medulla._  
  
Greg blinked twice and didn’t see his bedroom, but one with pale yellow walls, and a single bed lying below the window. Greg went over to it and pulled back the covers slightly. There was the note he was searching for. He picked up the note and smiled as he unfolded it to see Mycroft's looping script.  
  
_**I love you.**_   
  
Greg smiled this was going to be an easier one to get to. Their first ‘I love you’. He pocketed the poem before going into the bathroom and pulled the flush before washing his hands.  
  
Greg knew exactly where Mycroft meant. How could he ever forget? It was at the Scotland Yard Christmas party. Greg and Mycroft had been dating for a month, and Greg decided that they needed to take it up another step, so he asked Mycroft to the police Christmas party… on the 47th floor of The Shard. Greg cursed that was miles away.  
  
He raced to the tube in record time, baring saying goodbye to the woman. He got on the tube and read the message once, twice, three times, taking in every stroke of the pen and every pressure point. He could see Mycroft had slaved over it. And he needed to engrave into his mind.  
  
As he got off at The London Bridge tube station, he cursed as he got into the queue for The Shard’s lifts. It was a public building, but the lifts went so slow when he needed to find his love. Five minutes later, he got off on the 47th floor and looked around. No one was around, and the far wall was pure glass. Sellotaped to a window, was a white piece of paper. Greg raced to it and tore it off the wall. As he did he looked out the window and remembered the night in excruciating detail.  
  
_Greg’s boss was handing around the champagne again. Greg knew better than to take another glass, but this was his boss, and he desperately wanted to get a promotion, so he said yes._  
  
“Greg, I really think you’ve had enough.” Mycroft said softly, carefully wrapping an arm around Greg’s waist.  
  
Greg smiled slowly at the touch and leaned into Mycroft. He must have leaned in too far, because the next thing he knew his whole body was against Mycroft’s, with Mycroft’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, with the foot of his wine glass digging into the small of his back.  
  
Greg giggled and looked up at Mycroft, wanting… no needed to kiss those lips, but they had a rule and even in this state, he wasn’t going to break that rule. No public displays of affection, period. Mycroft didn’t have many but that was the most important. As Greg pushed himself off Mycroft, he felt a set of arms tighten around his waist, keeping him close.  
  
“Mycroft…” Greg started.  
  
“No, just this once I need you near.” Mycroft breathed, low enough just for Greg to hear.  
  
Greg shuddered as Mycroft’s breath past through his hair, “Are you sure? You were very… adamant about no PDA.”  
  
“Yes, because I need to tell you something,” Mycroft looked away from Greg for a moment. “I wanted to do this in a better way, but I need to say it.” Mycroft took hold of Greg’s chin and tilted his head up, so Greg was looking into Mycroft’s light grey eyes. “I love you Gregory Lestrade, you complete me as a human.”  
  
Greg didn’t know what to say or do, he was not nearly drunk enough to kiss Mycroft, all though that what every fibre of his being was shouting at him to do. And he wasn’t sober enough to think of a clever response. Instead he rested his head on Mycroft’s chest softly.  
  
“You know I’ve always loved you, Mycroft. Now, I think we have overstayed our welcome.”

Greg plucked the letter off the window and read it.

 _ **Date**_  
  
Greg read it once, twice, three time. Where our first date was. But where was that? Mycroft was certain that it was when Greg took them both out for beer at a high-end ale bar, because ‘a date is where one person pays for the other’, and Greg had bought all the drinks. But Greg would argue back that it didn’t count because it was straight after a case. Greg still had flecks of blood on his shoes and trouser bottoms, and stated it was a ‘meeting to set up a date.’ Greg argued that their first date was at a restaurant in Knightsbridge.  
  
Greg turned the paper over to find a single word elegantly scripted onto the back: 

 _ **Yours**_  

Greg smirked and considered texting Mycroft, but knew he would never respond. Instead he raced back down and out of the building to the tube and headed to Knightsbridge.  
  
As he got to the restaurant, he pushed his way through the doors. As a waiter came up to him, he saw what he was wearing: a three-piece tuxedo, with a bow tie, and tails. Greg looked down at his own scruffy trousers, and un-ironed shirt.  
  
“Hi, I was wondering if I could look around your restaurant.” Greg said nervously, already knowing the answer.  
  
The waiter gave him a once over before responding, “I don’t think you’re well suited at the moment. Please come back again, in more… suitable attire.”

“Look mate, I didn’t want to do this, I wanted to keep it more informal but,” Greg pulled out his badge. “My name is Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade of New Scotland Yard, and-“

The waiter blinked before cutting Greg off, “Ahh I’m so terribly sorry, sir, we have been expecting you. The gentlemen that came in late last night, he said that you would be coming. I’m sorry, I presumed that you would be dressed similar to him.”

Greg chuckled, dressed similar to him, no one dressed similar to Mycroft. No one, in Greg’s eyes, had the suave and sophistication, no one could wear any coloured suit, with any coloured tie and pull it off as perfectly sexy as Mycroft. “No, unfortunately, I don’t have the… personality to pull of a suit like him.”

The waiter smiled, working out that he was forgiven for the blunder. “I presume you know where to go.”

“Further table, next to the window.” Greg recalled.

The waiter nodded, allowing Greg into the restaurant. Greg half walked, half jogged to the right table. He was getting closer to Mycroft, he was getting closer to holding his lover in his arms, and the reminding time was seeming to stretch out forever.

On the table, the note was propped carefully against a champagne glass.

_Greg had come late to their first date, and he was blushing hard. He rushed to the table, and sat down as the waiter pulled out a chair for him._

_“Mycroft, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I would have been here early. I would have been waiting for you, but a lead come up on an investigation, and I couldn’t leave without-“_

_Mycroft held up one long finger to silence Greg, “there is no need for an apology Gregory. I, myself, was running late due to the Chinese President wanting to argue Hong Kong some more.”_

_Greg smiled, apologetically, before pushing his hand into Mycroft’s hand and placing them on the table together._

_“Please Gregory, I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of wine. Please drink some.” Mycroft removes his hand and poured Greg some wine into Greg’s glass._

_Greg drank half of the glass in one go, under the horrified gaze of Mycroft._

_“I’m sorry Mycroft. I just… it’s been a long, gruesome, day, and I-“_

_“There is honestly no need to apologise Gregory, I know what you have been dealing with, and believe me, if I was there with you, I would be wanting something stronger than wine.” Mycroft said, softly._

_Once again, Greg smiled apologetically._

_Mycroft started making polite conversation, as Greg chose his meal. As soon as he closed his menu, a waiter came over and took them away, “and what would you sirs be wanting for your meal?”_

_Mycroft looked at Greg to answer first, “I would like the fillet steak, medium-well, please.”_

_Mycroft raised an eyebrow before answering, “And I would like the anchovy, please.”_

_Greg went to retake Mycroft’s hand, but before he could, Mycroft pulled his hand away and refilled his own wine glass._

_“Mycroft, is everything alright?” Greg asked gently._

_“Most certainly, I am with you.”_

_Greg flushed, before continuing, “And yet I can’t hold your hand. Mycroft, have I don’t something wrong?”_

_Mycroft looked at Greg, and studied him, obviously trying to work out what to say. “No, you have done nothing wrong.” Mycroft finally said with a sigh._

_“Then why can I not touch you?”_

_“Because-” Mycroft looked out of the window. “Because I’m scared.” He said barely above a whisper._

_There had not been a more heinous pull on his whole conscious self to touch another human being. But Greg pulling his hands into tight fists and tried to ignore the instant tug._

_“I’m not going to hurt you.” Greg said softly._

_“It’s not you I’m scared of- I don’t believe you could ever hurt me. It’s just- people at work, I could get torn to shreds for this… type of relationship. I could lose everything.”_

_Greg smiled softly,“Mycroft look at me- I won’t touch you in public, unless you initiate it, I promise. I want this to work, and I’m prepared to work for it.”_

_Relief washed over Mycroft’s face, as he searched Greg’s face for the knowledge that he was telling the truth._

_“Thank you.” Mycroft breathed. “Do you have anything that you don’t want to do?” Mycroft asked, timidly, hoping against hope that Greg wouldn’t say him._

_“No talk about work, unless it’s clearing distressing us. I know you can’t talk about the inner relations with the Thai president, but no work talk on dates. No work talk at all, unless it’s hurting us.”_

_Mycroft nodded, “this is feasible, and I am more than happy to forgo work talk, as you elegantly put it.”_

_Before they could talk more, the waiter came back with their food, “Would you sirs like any condiments?”_

_Greg shook his head, as Mycroft answered, “No, thank you. Now please leave us.”_

_Their conversation slowed as the pair ate. At the end of the night; their main courses and desserts finished with, along with two bottles of wine. Greg was feeling more confident in himself, but definitely not drunk. Mycroft paid without a second thought of the size of the bill._

_Greg stood up nervously and held Mycroft’s coat out for him. “How are you getting home, Mycroft?”_

_“My driver is waiting outside, if you require a ride home, then know that I am more than happy to oblige.”_

_“No, I was thinking, I know it’s childish, but I wanted to walk you home.” Greg muttered, as he slipped on his own coat._

_Mycroft smiled, and looked out of the window. “I think that would be feasible.”_

_As they walked Greg kept glancing sideways at Mycroft, if he didn’t stop he would do something stupid and upset Mycroft. But still he continued to watch._

_As they passed through a silent park, Mycroft gently slipped his arm through Greg’s. Greg stopped in his tracks, under a large, oak tree, and stared at Mycroft bewildered._

_“There is no public around.” Mycroft squeezed Greg’s arm._

_“I- but- you- no-” Greg stuttered._

_“Shh, Gregory.” Mycroft placed a leather cladded finger against Greg’s lips. “I never said I didn’t want to.”_

_Greg couldn’t talk, partly due to Mycroft silencing him so effectively, but mainly due to having no words to speak._

_“Now,” Mycroft lowered his tone, forcing Greg to watch every feature on his face. “You are going to do exactly as I tell you.”_

_Greg gulped, “Please My-”_

_“No, first of all, stay silent.”_

_Greg snapped his mouth shut._

_“Secondally,” Mycroft removed his forefinger from Greg’s lips. “Kiss me.”_

_Greg blinked, bewildered by the threatening manner of the request._

_“Kiss me, Gregory.”_

_Greg’s mouth broke into a wide grin, that lifted his whole face. He leaned in and carefully brushed him lips against Mycroft. Greg closed his eyes, as he felt two solid hands placed on his hips, that was enough reassurance to continue. Pressing him lips harder against Mycroft’s, Greg moaned and took a step towards Mycroft. As Mycroft didn’t stop him or step away, Greg took another step, and another, until his body was flush against Mycroft’s._

_After a long minute, Greg reopened his eyes, to see that they had both travelled. Mycroft’s back was against the tree, and Greg had his legs planted between Mycroft’s._

_“I-” Mycroft stuttered, as he tried to regain his composure._

_Greg licked his lips, still tasting the sweet taste on Mycroft on his lips. “I think you need to get home, Mycroft.” Greg said, his voice an octave higher than before. “Daren’t let your employers get any ideas.”_

_“I-”_

_Greg gently took Mycroft’s hand in his own, and started leading him out of the park. “Am I that much of a good kisser, that I’ve silence Mycroft Holmes?”_

_“No- I mean, yes- I… you...”_

_“I think the Mycroft Holmes needs a good rest, before trying to speak again. Hopefully this condition isn’t long term. We can’t have the Chinese President arguing over Hong Kong, with some low life subordinate, that will give in to every demand.”_

_“I will be okay.” Mycroft said, rubbing a finger gently over his lips. “You shocked me, that is all. I wasn’t expecting… that.”_

_“I hope it was a nice shock to have. Look, I’ll get you home, and make sure you have some alcohol in you, alcohol is good for a shock.”_

_“No, that won’t be necessary Gregory. Just see me to my door, and I shall manage from there.” Mycroft said as they reached the road, and Mycroft pulled his hand out of Greg’s._

_“Please, I think by now, you can drop the formalities with me, damn Mycroft, I just made you speechless. Call me Greg.”_

_Mycroft smiled, and blushed hard, “in that case Greg, my house is just around the corner. You should be heading home, I shall survive from here.”_

_“You’ve not been taken on many dates have you?”_

_“Greg, how-”_

_“I may not be able to see everything like you, but I hope that I’m a detective for a reason.”_

_“And a good detective at that. No, I’ve not been on many dates. People either generally find me cold or too attached to my work, so whenever I am taken on a date, the relationship quickly ends.”_

_Greg bumped his shoulder into Mycroft’s slender arm. “Then I’ll have to teach you. Generally, when someone says they’re walking you home- it means to your door.” Mycroft nodded, processing Greg’s words. “Then the person whose house it is, will offer the other person to come in, under some lie that it is too cold outside. The guest will then be offered a drink, until both are well and truly hammered, and then the fun occurs. The host will offer the guest a bed for the night. Their bed to precisely, and then rumby-pumby happens.”_

_Mycroft blushed hard, “I can’t- if that’s what you’re after,” Mycroft pauses to compose himself, “please don’t ever use those words again.”_

_“Which words Mycroft, the host or too cold outside?” Greg smirked as Mycroft’s face glowed from embarrassment._

_“If you are to behave in such a way, Greg, then please note this date is nullified and I shall get my driver to take me home.”_

_“Oh God Mycroft no. I take my words back. I’m so sorry.”_

_The couple turned on to Mycroft’s street, which was lit solely by the pools of street lamps._

_“My house is merely a few yards away. Please Greg, it is cold outside return home, I shall get my driver to take you.”_

_“When I know you are safely inside. I am a police officer, it is my duty to ensure all citizens of Great Britain, Northern Ireland, and the surrounding islands are as safe as possible at all times.”_

_Greg walked Mycroft to Mycroft’s front door, it was painting black with a solitary gold number 9, fastened in the middle. Below the number, was a brass door knob, that shone in the dim light._

_“Well this is home, Greg.” Mycroft said, trying to hide his blush. “I would offer you to come in, but I fear what you may read into the question. So I must bid you goodnight here on the porch.”_

_“Don’t make it sound so final Mycr- oomph.”_

_Greg was taken by surprise with Mycroft’s sudden and ferocious kiss. He wrapped his arms loosely around Mycroft’s waist and stepped back so his back was against the door. Mycroft brought a hand up and ran it through Greg’s silvery hair._

_“So soft.” Mycroft breathed against Greg’s lips before catching himself. “I’m sorry, Greg, I didn’t mean-”_

_Mycroft was cut off by Greg finally letting out a burst of laughter._

Greg blinked back into the restaurant, and opened the envelope.

 _ **Kiss**_.

Greg smirked, this was going to be easier. The old oak tree. Quickly thanked the waitstaff, before half jogging, half running into the park. About a hundred yards in front of him, he saw Mycroft on one knee under the full leaves of the oak tree.

What was Mycroft doing there? Had he fallen, and was trying to get up? But he wasn’t moving, he must be injured.

All this went through Greg’s head within a split second. He bolted over to Mycroft and knelt in front of him, checking him for signs of an injury.

“Mycroft, jeez Myc, how long have you been here. Are you hurt? Come on, I’ll get you home and check you over properly.” Greg babbled, before being silenced by Mycroft’s actions.

One particular action, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box. It didn’t take a genius to work out what was in it, to work out what Mycroft was doing on one knee. Greg stood up and staggered back, both hands clasped tightly to his mouth.

“Myc…” he breathed. “All this…?”

“All this for you.” Mycroft opened the box, to show a beautiful platinum ring, with beveled edges. “Everything I have is for you.” Mycroft took a deep breath before plunging in. “Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, you make my world turn, you only make me wake up in the morning, to see your beautifully handsome face. You are the reason behind my every thought and every action. Would you do me the privilege of wedding me.” Mycroft paused incrementally, “Greg, will you marry me?”

Dumbfounded, Greg stood, not tearing his eyes off the wedding ring. All day to lead to this. All the first, and all the memories for this, to be wedding Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft Holmes, the man that had endured some of the worst crime scenes Greg had ever seen, without being there, had weathered everything Greg had gone through and everything he had gone through, that he legally couldn’t tell Greg. Mycroft Holmes, the man that always came home, was making another home, not just one made of bricks and mortar, but one with a soul, Greg’s soul.

If Greg smiled any wider, his face would surely split. “Yes, Mycroft. Yes, I’ll wed you.”

Greg reached his left hand down, and Mycroft pushed the ring onto his third finger, with only a slight tremble in his hand. As soon as it was on Greg reached down and lifted Mycroft into a warm hug.

“I love you.” Greg whispered before cementing the proposal with a long kiss.

 

 


End file.
